Confessions of a Champion Underdog
by Z-Thirteen
Summary: Luvea Trivon, an ingenuous Yooyuball journeyman, knows little about the world outside Sakhmet. When he becomes the left defender of the Lost Desert, he is blown away by the Altador Cup and everyone in it. When ACV rolls around and his team becomes a contender for the cup, Luvea must confront his fears once and for all and learn what it means to be a champion.
1. Sakhmet, The Lost Desert, Year 8

**Part One: Welcome to the Altador Cup**

**Sakhmet, the Lost Desert, in the Month of Swimming, Y8**

I never thought I'd be a champion.

I lived in the Lost Desert city of Sakhmet my whole life—but I never left it once. I had never placed my foot outside the city, into the scorching desert sands my nation was so incredibly famous for. It didn't work that way. As a result, I knew nothing about the world beyond Skahmet. I didn't know about the other lands, what they were like, or the people who lived in them. I was completely innocent of experience.

I wasn't exactly champion material, but I wasn't quite a loser. I was average, if not a bit wimpy, for a Draik. I was scrawny, and not very tall, with thin arms. I wasn't the strongest or fastest, but I was strong enough and fast enough. I could protect myself well enough—I had wings, claws, and teeth, and scales. However, I was less likely to beat up than be beaten up.

I'm a nice guy. Maybe _'too nice'_ for my own good. People warned me that someday, out there in that big ol' world of Neopia, people would take advantage of me, and just stomp all over me before I even had a chance to fight back.

They were right—to a degree. Just because I was a pushover didn't mean I couldn't get angry. I could look at someone with a neutral face while actually thinking up twenty different ways to separate his head from his body. But I couldn't come up with good insults, hold grudges for long, or bring myself to take my revenge.

I wasn't a winner. I lacked the will to become a champion.

That's why everyone was so surprised when I started playing Yooyuball.

I never got interested until I heard about the tournament in Altador. I was eighteen years old. It was Y8, and the Altador Cup had just been announced. I went to a local playing court with a few other pets just to try. Five games later, I was hooked. I ran, I tackled, I passed, I shot—

And missed. Scoring wasn't my strength. Still, I had a new hobby that I was good at.

I didn't have a lot of NP, but I had the essentials—a roof over my head, a bed, table, a bathroom that worked, and small kitchen. My only contact with the world beyond my hometown was through a small television set, and a transistor radio. I used these outlets to follow the events of the Altador Cup.

I wasn't a professional—Yooyuball was a hobby and interest. I worked at a bookstore, binding books and sometimes pricing them. The pay was enough for me to buy food, pay taxes, and keep my house off the market. I wasn't exactly the best employee ever. Usually I'd mess up in the binding in some way or another. I bent covers, ripped pages, or glued them in crookedly. This made them lower in price, which wasn't good for business. _I _wasn't good for business.

During one of my workdays, I was folding and binding the paper into books while listening to live news from the Altador Cup on the radio. One of the other employees, Shoras, a desert Lupe, was working next to me. I listened as the two newscasters commented on the beginning of the game.

"_Well, ladies and gentlemen, the second round has begun, and today, we have the Haunted Woods vs. Krawk Island, and the Darigan Citadel vs. Roo Island, and, my god, is that competition going! The crowd is going wild! I must say, the Altador Cup has become very popular here, and the fans are showing it. Well, the matches are about to start, and I must say, it certainly is exciting! What do you think, Bob?"_

"_Oh, definitely, Stan. I've gotta tell you, these'll be matches that nobody will forget. My guess is that these wins will be incredibly close, but from what I can see, nobody's about to go down without a good fight."_

"The tournament sure is exciting, huh?" I said to Shoras.

"Ha. The Lost Desert got knocked out, thanks to that stupid island where they just bounce and throw dice all day."

What a cheerful guy he was. "I'm sure Roo Island is a nice place," I said.

"You've never been there, Luvea. You've only heard stories. Besides," he continued, not looking at me as he worked, "nobody paid any attention to our team, anyway. That trophy's just gonna end up in the hands of our sadistic neighbors."

By 'our sadistic neighbors', he meant the Haunted Woods. I didn't know a lot about the Woods, except that it was a creepy place where Halloween never ended. Or so I heard.

"It's still exciting," I said.

"It's only exciting to you because you actually play Yooyuball. Watch that book!"

Too late. I ripped a page.

Shoras growled, snatched the book away, and shoved an empty binder in my hands. "Here. Do this one. Could you be any more incompetent?"

I could've stuffed the new binder in his mouth. But I didn't. I began binding in new sheets. "Well, I think Krawk Island and Roo Island have done really well. I mean, Roo Island, who knew? And the Darigan Citadel has done really well. I saw them playing on Neovision last night, and they were good."

"The Darigan Citadel's left forward doesn't even have legs. Watch the book!"

"Okay, okay," I snapped. "They're still good, though. Better than I could be."

"It's embarrassing when your team doesn't make it to the finals. They're wasting their time. What's the point of entering a competition if you don't win it?"

The page ripped in my hands.

Shoras whirled on me. "Damn it, are you completely useless? Give me that!"

I thrust it into his paws. I took a new binder and began again.

What was his problem? There was a reason why these teams all entered this competition, and I was pretty sure it wasn't just about winning a trophy. I wondered what it was like to be in the tournament. I imagined the roar of the crowd, the glaring lights, and players rushing across the field, clutching Yooyus in their slings. I played Yooyuball, and despite my inexperience, I knew what it was like to rush across a playing court in the heat of the moment.

But imagine being in a championship! I nearly ripped a third page.

_Nearly. _But not quite.

* * *

A few nights later, I watched the final match on my TV. I had to adjust the Cybunny ears and give it a good punch to make it work. I could make out the different players, and their coloured jerseys helped me differentiate the teams. The players entered the field—five on each side—lined up, faced each other, and got into their positions. A gong sounded, and a speck appeared in the middle of the field—the Yooyu. The players got into action.

"_And so, ladies and gentlemen, here we have the final match between the Darigan Citadel and the Haunted Woods, and, I have to tell you, the Woods, with their phenomenal three-defender assault, have so far hindered all the Citadel's star forward Layton Vickles' attempts to make a single goal!"_

"_Oh, but you've gotta give it to the Citadel—they are trying hard, and—oh? What's this? Tandrak Shaye has managed to catch Fanetti's sloppy pass to Chelo Binay—he's running…oh, that was close…he shoots—He SCORES! My god! What a turn of events! Perhaps the Citadel's got a few more runs, after all! What do you think?"_

"_Maybe so, maybe so, but this match is now 0-1, and, I can tell you, the tension is spiking up now more than ever! It looks like one of these teams is going to have to step up! So far, it looks as though the Woods is getting right back on course here, as Zo Junior once again has the ball—he's making a run for it…oh, and Layton Vickles manages to tackle him! Oh, look at him go!"_

"_Oh, I bet everyone can just feel the tension—what? Oh, my god! Krell Vitor is chasing Vickles down—he's cornered him! Ooh, this can't be pretty—OH! He's forced Vickles to fumble! Vitor passes—and Zo Junior has the ball! Look how fast he's going! He's running towards the Citadel's goal—he's gotten past Tormo "The Terror" Frein—he aims, and…GOAL! Oh, what a shot! Now that's what I call a clutch performance!"_

"_Oh, boy! Now with the game tied 1-1, everybody's feeling the heat! With only thirty seconds on the clock, somebody's gonna have to break the tie! Okay, here we go…Wan Dirx has the ball and—OH! The Citadel duo of Tormo "The Terror" Frein and Kep Bonnefie double-team him! He passes—oh, and Kep Bonnefie has the ball! There she goes, ladies and gentlemen! And…what? Dirx has gained ground from behind! He's going after her—and he shoves her! Oh, and he has the ball! He's running towards the goal—he passes to Chelo Binay! Oh, the tension is unbelievable!"_

"_Binay is running…oh, what's this? She passes to Krell Vitor! And he's running to the goal—he's almost there…oh, the Terror and Bonnefie cannot reach their spots in time! Oh, my god…Vitor's still going at it—he's almost there—he shoots—"_

Silence. Then the roar of the crowd nearly busted the speakers.

"_GOOOOOOOAAAAAAL! UNBELIEVABLE! In this stunning turn of events, team captain Krell Vitor has sealed the victory for the Haunted Woods and scored the final goal! Well ladies and gentlemen, there you have it! The Haunted Woods is victorious! Oh, what a great performance!"_

I threw myself back into the sofa and let out a sigh of relief. I had to hand it Shoras. The trophy _did_ fall into the hands of 'our sadistic neighbors', but I was happy for them. Even if they were sadists. I watched the crowd cheer as the winning team gathered together in the field, cheering along with the crowd.

_"Well, ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow the awards are held, and don't forget to vote for the Most Valuable Player Awards! Congratulations, Team Haunted Woods, for winning the Cup, and great job, everyone! Thank you, and goodnight!"_

* * *

When all was said and done, and the Altador Cup had finished, I wasn't the only one still thinking about the tournament. Many Yooyuball fans in Sakhmet were disappointed with our team's loss. The Lost Desert's score ended up at fifth place. That was good, I thought. Fifth place was very good. Under any other circumstances, had it just been bad luck, it wouldn't have been such a failure. However, Team Lost Desert, its fans, and sports critics thought otherwise. The Lost Desert's slip from victory was a shame and an upset, and the blame was divided in two parts.

There were rumors that right forward was selfish, had a rivalry with the left forward, and refused to go to training camp due to a rather nasty holdout. However, from what I heard, she wasn't completely at fault. She was said to be clever, and she could really score. They couldn't part with her.

That's when the second scapegoat came in. The left defender, whose name was Wyett Tuggins, was a good defender, able to steal the ball at vital moments—or so it seemed. His downfall—and inevitably, the entire team's downfall—came at the hands of Roo Island. Roo Island's left defender, a young girl named Fenny Vail, outdid him and snuck a goal, and as a result, victory slipped from the Lost Desert's grasp. Once the games were through, the scores were drawn, trophies were placed, and everyone went home, it was agreed—it was Wyett's fault, and the Lost Desert needed a new left defender.

* * *

Three months passed since the first Altador Cup.

I played in the competitive, amateur league games, always as a defender. Yooyuball was the only thing I was firm with, so I made it as clear that I meant business and was not to be taken lightly. I always tackled an opponent whenever I had the chance, and passed to any teammate nearby. I was consistent. But I never scored.

The cheers of the audience blurred into white noise—encouraging white noise. I always played my hardest, adrenalin running through me, until my muscles ached and my heart was ready to penetrate my chest wall. I got pushed around a few times, and tackled, and shoved. But for once, I was willing to fight back.

I came. I saw. I conquered.

The seasons ended, and my team emerged victorious. When it was all over, I went home, tired, sweaty, short of breath, and deliriously happy.

One night, in the Month of Running, I came home late after a hard day at work. There were envelopes lying on the floor. I groaned out loud. I had a feeling that some of them were bills I had to pay for tax collectors (the Lost Desert is infamous for its frequent taxes). I sorted through them. I was right—they were all bills.

Except for one.

It was yellow, with a handwritten address. The return address had the name of the sender: _Leera Heggle_. My heart stopped. I knew who Leera Heggle was—he was the goalkeeper and team captain of Team Lost Desert. And he had sent me a letter. I had a feeling that it had something to do with my playing, or perhaps the left defender. But I didn't dare assume such a thing. I carefully ripped the envelope open and took out the letter inside. This is what it said.

_Dear Mr. Luvea Trivon,_

_Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Leera Heggle, and I'm the captain of the Lost Desert's Yooyuball team. I am writing to you on behalf of the whole team, for the following reasons:_

_You may or may not have heard that our left defender, Wyett Tuggins, has left the Lost Desert's Yooyuball team after the upset loss to Roo Island. As one of those rare instances where rumor is truth, Wyett indeed failed to step up in a clutch situation, involving his failure to guard Roo Island's left defender, who pulled off a successful offensive attack. Since Wyett's departure, we've been in need of a new talent who could lend consistency to our team's roster._

_It's come to my attention that you play Yooyuball. I watched the public minor league games during the off-season, and noticed your play as a defender. While you seem not to be a scorer, your finesse and sense of game play are far superior to the others playing alongside you, despite what seems like a lack of professional experience. You also show remarkable consistency, and you seem to have an attitude that was helpful to your team. I've taken the time for the past week to watching you play, and I made the decision to contact our manager. He was definitely impressed by your performance, and gave me permission to contact you._

_We're inviting you to take Wyett Tuggins' place as left defender._

_There are many benefits—once you've joined the team, you are allowed a stay in the hotel in Altador during the game season. By the end of the season, each team receives a large amount of NP, divided evenly among the players. Your contract lasts up to three to five years, but you can sign up again once it runs out. The Altador Cup usually starts around the beginning of the Month of Relaxing. The tryouts and pre-season meetings begin in the Month of Eating, so it would be best if you arrived around that time so you can practice with us. Your equipment will be provided for you._

_If you accept this offer, then reply by the fifteenth day of Running. The manager will contact you and send you your contract and application forms. I know it's very last minute, but from what I've seen, I think you have potential to be a great player. If you don't want to join us, that's fine—it's your choice._

_But as team captain, I'd appreciate it if you said yes._

_Sincerely,_

_Leera Heggle_

When I finished the letter, I went over to the nearest chair and fell into it.

The captain of the Lost Desert's Yooyuball team wanted me to be their new defender. _Me_. I wasn't a professional. I was just some guy who enjoyed a friendly game of Yooyuball. I had only been playing for six months! I was good—I wasn't too humble to admit that. But not _that _good.

Was I?

I considered the offer. If I joined the team, Yooyuball wouldn't just be my hobby—it would be my job. That meant that I would never have to work at that bookshop again. That was something to think about.

I only heard stories about Altador. Imagine seeing it! And imagine meeting the Lost Desert's team. But I'd have to meet the other teams, too. I barely knew anything about the other lands. I heard rumors, and read a few books, but what did I know for sure? Shoras said that in Roo Island, they just bounced and played dice, and that the Haunted Woods was 'sadistic'. Oh, man. _That_ was a risk right there.

But there was another bigger issue—I never left Sakhmet before. And if I joined the Altador Cup, that would have to change. I'd have to leave for practices, and spend three months in Altador, playing hard almost all day, every day. And during off-season, I'd have to attend practices, training camp, take interviews, and all sorts of things. Could I survive out there? What did I really _expect?_

I turned and looked at my poster showing my support for our team. _Lost Desert for the Cup, _it said. This was my home team. I could make a difference. But at the same time, did I have the will to go out there, risk it all, and become a champion? I was no champion—and being a nice, friendly pushover could easily be my undoing if my inexperience didn't kill me first. But I could help. I still had a chance.

I decided.

I knew I'd have to do some serious preparation, save up my money, and buy some equipment. I knew people would criticize me, and I knew I'd meet people that could potentially be my enemies. And there was always a chance that I wouldn't be accepted. But that didn't matter.

I was going to Altador.


	2. Altador, The Month of Eating, Year 9

******Altador, The Month of Eating, Y9**

I sent my reply to Leera Heggle the next day. And from that point on, I spent every free hour practicing in the courts. I jogged around Sakhmet, did push-ups, and bought books about Yooyuball. After receiving my yearly pay, I quit my job at the bookshop. (They weren't terribly distressed at my departure.) Finally, the day came. It was the Eleventh Day of Eating, Year 9.

I went on a train that took the route through the mountain pass into Altador. I'd never been on a train before, so I was a little nervous. It didn't last long—I fell asleep almost instantly. After an hour, I awoke, and looked out the window.

There it was. The colosseum. I turned away and took a deep breath. My stop was approaching.

I stepped off the train, and was greeted by a whole different world. Altador was the most amazing place I had ever seen. It was warm, with clean, paved roads and marble fountains. Grass and flowers grew almost everywhere. A palace was atop one of the mountains, and there were sparkling beaches, boats, and ship harbors down below. And I had never seen so much water in one place. I almost wanted to drop my suitcase and explore. But duty was calling me, so I kept going.

I knew I was in the right place when I saw the multi-coloured banners and the people wandering around, building stands and moving equipment.

I dropped my duffel and gaped in astonishment. The colosseum was a huge, majestic grey-white ring with rows and windowless gaps. The pathway had the insignias of each team embedded into each paving stone. There were two sitting Lupe statues on either side of the huge opening.

I was to meet Leera Heggle inside. Although I could easily get lost in a huge place like this. I walked around it, and found the Staff Entrance. "EMPLOYEES AND CUP MEMBERS ONLY", it said on the door. I fugred since I was trying out, I was allowed to use it.

Inside the colosseum, I walked through long curving halls and various recreation rooms. I must've spent maybe ten minutes inside, without any idea where I was going.

I was walking through one of the halls when something caught my eye. There, against the wall ahead of me, was a large glass cabinet. Inside were framed pictures of all the teams in ACI, including the winning team (the Haunted Woods) top and center.

And there was the Cup itself.

I stared. The Cup was this amazing trophy about ten inches tall, made of gold. It had a globe of Neopia in the opening of the "cup", a handle on each side, and a Yooyu emblem near the base.

I kept staring at the trophy in the cabinet. I was mesmerized. It was just a hunk of wood and metal. But it was the most beautiful hunk of wood and metal I'd ever seen. It seemed to pull me in like a magnet. I wanted desperately to reach for it, to hold it in my scrawny hands, even just for a moment. Almost unconsciously I reached for the glass of the cabinet…

A loud, jarring whistle broke me out of my reverie. "HEY! _What_ do you think you're doing?"

I snapped out of my trance and saw a red Scorchio storming over. He was wearing a black and white shirt and a whistle around his neck. He was clearly the referee. And he was clearly irritated.

I realized that my hand was getting too close to the trophy. I put it behind my back. "Oh, uh, I was just—"

"What are you doing back here? Didn't you read the sign? _EMPLOYEES AND CUP MEMBERS ONLY. _You're not a player, are you?"

"Well, yeah. No. Actually, not yet. I figured because I'm trying out, I—"

"Uh-huh. Okay, now _get out."_

"B-but sir, I'm supposed to be back here. I'm meeting Leera Heggle. I'm trying out for the Lost—"

"Yeah, sure, that's what they _all_ say. The old 'oh, I'm meeting Mr. or Ms. So-and-so, they told me to come back here.' They all wanna meet their stars and get an autograph. Happens every time."

"But sir—"

"Not this time, kid! Now, come with m—"

"Wait, Ref!" A strong voice came from the doorway.

I looked to the doorway to behold my savior. He was a big, strong Kau in his thirties, burly and robustly built. His left ear was pierced and had a gold hoop. He was wearing a yellow and blue jersey uniform. He came over to us and stood by my side.

"It's okay, Ref. The kid's with me. He's trying out with us today."

The Ref raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Alright then. Okay, sorry about that, kid. But don't let me catch you doing anything stupid, alright?" He looked over his shoulder and saw people—other athletes—watching and giggling from the doorway. He blew his whistle and ran after them, shouting. "HEY! Get back here! If I catch you all doing that again I'll call the Committee!"

When he was gone, the Kau and I let out sighs of relief. The Kau looked apologetic. "Sorry I didn't come sooner. I didn't realize what room you'd be in." He smiled at me, studying me. "You're Luvea Trivon, am I right?"

"Yes," I said, in awe. "Good to meet you, Mr. Heggle."

"Call me Leera. I get enough of 'Mr. Heggle' from the Rules Committee. Did you have a safe journey here?"

"Uh…well, nothing bad happened, so, yeah."

"Good. Come with me, please."

He started going down the hall. I followed him.

"So, Luvea," he began as we walked, "I assume you'd like to know a bit more about the Cup, right?"

"Yeah," I said, eagerly. "More than anything."

Leera led me to the railing. He gestured. "Then look."

I looked over the railing. I was blown away. The colosseum was the most majestic and incredible place I'd ever seen. I saw waves of seats in the stands, the huge ring of unlit bulbs, and the massive playing field below. The light beige field stretched almost eighty yards across. It seemed to glow golden in the sunlight. It was almost blinding; mesmerizing, like the very Cup itself. There were goalposts of two different colours on either side, and chalk lines across the field. I guessed that they must've been as thick as my arms.

I gaped in wonder. Leera chuckled. "Best seats in the house, you think? You should see it once the season starts. This is one of the reasons I try to get here first. And leave last." He turned to me. "What do you think?"

I was speechless. "It's…" Well, almost speechless. "It's incredible."

Leera stepped away from the railing and gestured down the hallway. "Now, let's go. We don't wanna keep the team waiting."

Leera led me out of the colosseum, through halls, into the great wide open of the tournament grounds. I saw other Neopets wandering around—other athletes from other teams. Everyone was wearing a combination of different colours—making me, wearing the commonplace white clothing of the desert, stand out. At first I didn't notice that everyone was watching me. When I finally _did _notice, I realized that I was walking through a sentient rainbow of death. Leera semed aware that I was getting a little intimidated.

"Don't make eye contact," he whispered. "Not yet."

He brought me to a building close by, short, with a long line of doors, each one bearing the insignia of a different team. He stopped in front of the one with the Lost Desert's logo. He smiled at me. "Welcome to the Team Lost Desert headquarters."

Leera opened the door. Loud and angry yelling and shouting came from inside.

Leera abruptly slammed it shut and looked plenty embarrassed. "I'm sorry. But could you please wait out here for just a minute? I'm—"

"Oh, no, sir. It's okay. I'm fine."

"Thank you. I'm so sorry about this. It'll only be a few minutes. Wait right here."

Leera quickly ran into the room and shut it behind him. I heard yells and shouts, broken only by Leera's muffled commands of "Alright, that's _enough!_ _Both_ of you! Knock it off! We have a visitor! I don't care _who_ started it! Both of you need to quiet down!"

I just stood out there, awkwardly. Patiently. Out in the open. Unsuspecting. A sitting Mallard.

I saw other athletes walk by. Some of them stopped and stared. I waved at them like an idiot. I could hear whispers of "That's him. The Lost Desert's new guy. He's replacing Wyett Tuggins. Hope he doesn't screw up too badly. I bet he will. Defenders always have the hardest job."

I pretended to be very interested in the clouds rolling by.

A small group of scary-looking Neopets, wearing orange and black jerseys, passed me by. Without warning, one of them, a tall, wiry Halloween Techo, shoved me hard with his shoulder, nearly knocking me over.

"Hey, watch it," he sneered, his voice cruel and husky. "Your shoulder just got in my way."

His teammates—a devious, ratty Halloween Meerca and a small, young, rascally Fire Korbat—laughed at my expense.

The Techo was bandaged like a mummy or a TP'd house. A few bandages hung loosely around his neck. If I ever abandoned scruples, I'd use those bandages to strangle him. But I didn't get a chance. He and his teammates left, laughing and nudging each other.

Now _everybody _was staring at me. My first hour in the Altador Cup wasn't going very smoothly. There were still people yelling behind the closed Lost Desert lounge door. I wished very hard for Leera to come back out and rescue me.

Just then, someone from the grounds shouted, "Hey, kid! Duck!"

I looked up. "What?"

_WHACK!_

Out of nowhere, a ball hit the back of my skull. Next thing I knew, I was lying facedown on the ground. I heard people laughing, along with shouts like, "Hey, good shot, Wiz!" and "That'll show him," and "Boom! One point for Meridell!"

I hurriedly picked myself back up. My ego had just been dented severely.

"I'm sorry. Did I hit you?" a low, dark voice asked.

I turned around. Four Neopets—a huge, barrel-chested red Ixi, a small, sneaky-looking green Meerca, a beautiful, long-haired yellow Eyrie, and a white Techo—were approaching us. They all wore blue and red jerseys with a shield emblem on their chests.

It was the Techo in front who caught my eye the most. He was in his early twenties, smooth, fit, with a handsome face by anyone's standards. I could tell from the cool gleam in his yellow eyes and his air of confidence that he was an intelligent guy who knew a great deal about whatever he did—most likely, Yooyuball.

The dusky voice was his. "I'm sorry about that. I hope it didn't hurt you too badly."

"Uh…" I almost forgot how to talk. "N-no. It's okay. I'm fine."

Suddenly the Techo's eyes brightened. "Hey," he said, "I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Well, I—"

"Wait." The Techo cocked his head at me, pointing. "Wait a minute. You're…you're that new guy, aren't you?"

I didn't like the way he said _'that new guy',_ like I was some kind of new specimen and not a Draik, and definitely not another Neopet. _Patheticus wimpus, _male. "Luvea Trivon," I replied.

The Techo seemed amused by response. He turned head over his shoulder to his teammates and exchanged suspicious, but curious, looks. Then he turned to me. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. Call me 'Wizard'. I'm the centre forward of Team Meridell. And you are on…?"

"Uh…" I was getting a bit flustered. I glared at him. I didn't realize I was shaking. "Well, uh, you see, I—I-I-I-I'm not part of any t-team yet. I-I'm here to be…um…I'm trying out as the new left d-d-defender. On…on the Lost D-d-d-d-d-desert."

Some bystander laughed. I heard someone say, _"Stutterer."_

Wizard seemed amused by my speech impediment. He looked back at his minions, who, except the Meerca (who was shaking his head and looking wickedly guilty), were stifling laughs and nudging each other. Then he turned back to me, his mouth broadening to a smile. Then he folded his arms across his chest—a challenging pose. "Well, then. It's a pleasure to meet you, Luvea Trivon. You know, I heard about you."

"You…you have?" I was getting a little uncomfortable. And irritated. I didn't like the way this guy was talking to me. Like I was some clueless idiot from Brainlessville or something. I didn't realize that I was frowning.

Wizard's smile stretched further to one side. "I have. I heard you were playing in the amateur leagues when Leera found you. A little wet behind the ears, I heard."

I didn't say anything. I was more focused on my daydream of snapping his neck.

"You don't know much, do you?" he said. It was less of a question and more of a statement. "Well, I suggest that you take advantage of today, get some practice. I think you'll need it. We'll see you around." Wizard gestured to his teammates, and they left, stifling laughs.

I sighed with relief once he was gone.

But my relief was short-lived. I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.

The little Korbat from the scary group of pets was standing right next to me. Without warning, splashed his water bottle in my face, and ran after his teammates as I sputtered.

"Sorry," he said, looking back, smiling. And then he laughed. The little slime. It was all I could do to keep from throttling him.

Just then, the lounge door opened, and Leera stepped out. "Okay, Luvea. I'm sorry you had to wait so long…" He stopped. He saw that I was soaking wet and looking none too happy. "What happened out here?"

"I think I just met the competition."

* * *

The team lounge was nothing special. It was plainly furnished with a table, four chairs, and a couch about as long as I was. The only unusual thing about it was that there was a cabinet of extra equipment, a rather large first aid kit, and a noticeable yellow and blue theme. There were posters on the walls, and banners saying things like, "Lost Desert FTW," and pictures of all the athletes who'd ever played on the team in small frames on the wall. I saw Wyett Tuggins' proud, confident face up there, and shuddered.

Waiting for us there were three Neopets—a Scorchio, a Wocky, and a Ruki, all painted desert, wearing yellow and blue Yooyuball uniforms. The Scorchio was female, the Wocky and Ruki were male. The Wocky and Scorchio were just wrapping up of a rather heated argument, while the Ruki was just louging about on a chair, as if he didn't notice the fight. They turned their heads to us as we approached.

The Scorchio cracked a smile. "So," she said, jauntily, "This is our fresh face for the team."

Leera saw the Ruki staring balefully at me, and he frowned, a stern, forbidding look. "Navers," he said. "Stop that."

The Ruki leaned back. "Sorry," he said, dismissively.

Leera introduced me. "Everyone, this is Luvea Trivon. He'll be trying out for the position as our new left defender. Luvea, meet Team Lost Desert."

The Scorchio smiled, and I noticed her most striking features, her faultlessly green eyes. She shook my hand rather roughly. "Well then, _Luvea, _I guess it's good to meet you. I'm Derbi Azar." She released my hand, gestured to the Ruki, and smiled in mock seriousness. "And _this_ is the roughest, baddest, toughest defender you'll ever meet. Navers. _'Dirty'_ Navers."

"Hello," said 'Dirty' Navers.

The Wocky got up from the bench he was sitting on. He was around my age and height. His hair looked like two different colors, dark brown one second, black the next. "Hey there," he said. "I'm—"

"The_ illustrious_ Vonde," Derbi interrupted, emphasizing the word "illustrious" with heavy sarcasm. Or was it contempt? Whatever it was, the Wocky didn't like it. He glared daggers at her, and she kept smiling.

"Yeah. I'm Vonde Cayle. Good to meet you…uh…Luvea, right?"

"Yes," I said.

"Of course it's Luvea," Derbi said. "Come _on,_ Vonde. You're not _that _stupid."

"Don't listen to her," he continued, ignoring her. "Everything she says is bull—" Vonde noticed Leera glaring at him. "Sorry, Captain."

"Oh, yeah," Derbi taunted, "way to tick off Captain in front of the new guy. Smooth, Vonde, really smooth. You're a master at first impressions."

"Shut up!" Vonde snarled at her.

Leera frowned at them sternly. "That's enough, Derbi," he said.

Derbi was silent.

Leera turned to me. "It's okay. This happens sometimes. You're not to blame."

"Yeah," said Vonde. "Most of everything is Derbi's fault."

"Vonde…"

"Sorry, Captain." Vonde saw that Derbi was smirking. He muttered under his breath, _"I guess that's what happens when you don't attend training camp."_

"That's_ enough."_

Vonde and Derbi didn't stop glaring each other. Leera sighed. He saw that I was now standing awkwardly a few yards away. "Come back. It's fine," he said. "They've always been like this."

"Especially since _someone _decided she was too good for the training camp and _had _to have a holdout—"

"Vonde," Leera said. "I said that was _enough."_

I realized that the rumors I had heard in Sakhmet were true—Derbi had to be that gossiped right forward who had a holdout and argued with the other forward. What was I thinking by getting involved in a team rivalry?

Leera and Derbi didn't stop glaring at each other. Leera shook his head. "You two sometimes make it a lot harder than it has to be." Then he turned to me. "I hope you're the not the…uh, how do I put this…_argumentative _type. Are you?"

"No. Not really." Translation: _Dude, I'm the least argumentative person you'll ever find. I'm practically a wimp._

"Well, Luvea, what kind of type are you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Derbi cracked another witty smile. "He's asking about your personality type. Y'know, do you play well with others, that sort of thing."

"Yeah," Vonde added, "We need _somebody _who d—"

"Vonde…"

"…Sorry, Captain."

"Anyway, Luvea, what kind of athlete are you? The guarder? The pursuer? The leader? What are your skills, your strategies? How do you play the game, and why?"

I thought about it. "I guess you could say I'm the…defender?"

Derbi, Vonde, and Dirty Navers laughed. Leera stifled his laugh but couldn't hide his amusement. "That goes without saying. But what kind of defender are you?"

"The kind that…defends?"

Derbi nodded. "Oh yeah. _That _makes sense."

Leera raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been playing, Luvea?"

"I think about six or seven months."

"ONLY six or seven?" Leera was shocked.

"Yeah."

"Wow! Derbi, did you hear that? He's a bigger n00b than you are—"

"Vonde!" Leera scolded.

Vonde realized what he'd said and blushed. "Uh, sorry Luvea."

"No, it's okay. So, yeah, I played for about seven months."

Leera nodded, thinking. "Okay, then. Did you have any professional experience during that time?"

"In the ame—minor leagues. I only played for a couple of months there, though."

Navers was nodding slowly, smirking. "Nice…"

Leera ignored him. "What can you do, Luvea?"

"What can I _do?_ I play Yooyuball."

"But what are your strengths? Strategies, things like that?"

"Oh. Okay then! Well, I can tackle other players, and pass, whenever I need to do it. Okay, there's this thing I do—I go up to the player who's about to get the ball, tackle 'em, run over and pass it before anyone gets to me. Works almost every time. And don't really get tired easily, or wear out, but I'm not exactly a tough guy, either. I can just do my job the same way every time I need to."

"So you're consistent?"

"It that's the word they use for guys like me, then yes, I'm consistent."

"Funny," said Vonde. "Wyett wasn't."

"Huh," I said, slightly uncomfortable. "I had a feeling."

"You seem to have the makings of a defender," said Leera. "Do you have any weaknesses?"

"Uh…yeah. I'm kind of a weak scorer. Well, not weak, I mean, just not very good. Actually, uh, no, you see…I suck."

Derbi raised her eyebrows. "Well. Give him points for honesty."

Vonde muttered quietly, "Something _you _wouldn't ha—"

"Vonde…" Leera warned. Vonde stayed silent while Derbi smiled with triumph.

I wanted the attention back on me. "Yes, sir, I fail at scoring. And…because I haven't had a lot of professional experience, I guess that makes me…_in_experienced."

"So, is that everything?"

I paused. "I think so."

"Alright then, Luvea." Leera got up and went over to the equipment racks, and took off a rubber practice ball. "Catch."

He tossed it across the room at me. I caught it with one hand.

Leera nodded. "Good start, good start. It will be nice to see you practice with us today."

I suddenly got excited. "Are we going now?'

Leera was amused. "No, not quite yet. We have to talk about how we do things here in Team Lost Desert. Our strategies. Since you may be joining us, it's only fair for you to know. Right?"

"Uh…yeah. Yes. Of course, sir."

"Now, Luvea, before we go, I think you should understand a few things about the Cup. Think of the tournament as a metaphor."

"A metaphor of what?"

"A metaphor of…well, life, I suppose. You see, the Cup is more than a game. It's a way of life. In a way, it symbolizes life. And we, the players of the Cup, we are the teams—and as teams, we repesent our homelands. Our world. Each team performs differently, plays differently, acts differently, but they are here for the same reasons we are. They're here to win. And so, when facing opponents, or, should I say, approaching different lands, the best thing you can do is to get to know them. Understand them. Does that makes sense?"

"I'm trying, sir. Leera. I think I understand."

"Here, in Team Lost Desert, we have four strategies:

"First, in the arena, be ready to face whatever challenges come to you. Keep on the lookout, observe your surroundings, evaluate the situation, and make a move. You're always a part of the game, no matter if you get to do something in a match or not. Always be ready.

"Second, try to learn from your matches, successful, or not. Usually, you learn more from your losses and mistakes, so try to be objective and figure out what may have gone wrong. But try to pick up successful strategies that helped gain a win. That's always helpful.

"Third, know your opponents—their strengths, their weaknesses. Beware of how they may overtake you, but don't be afraid of confrontation. Learn from your opponents. Develop strategies when you face them. The more you know about who and what you're dealing with, the more you'll understand the game, and the different ways of playing it.

"And fourth, _never _underestimate an opponent, no matter their placing in the standings, or how unlucky or weak they seem. If everyone has a weakness, then everyone has a strength of some kind. Never make assumptions, or look down on other teams. Rebounds, improvements, and upsets can happen, and they _do, _so we can't underestimate anyone.

"When we get to know our opponents, and how the game works, we, the Lost Desert, stand a chance at getting that trophy. So, Luvea, it's a pretty weighty challenge." He took on a goalie stance and motioned for me to throw the practice ball. "Are you willing to take it on?"

Derbi, Vonde, and Navers watched me, expectantly. I took a deep breath. I felt that feeling of determination wash over me. I nodded and threw the ball directly at Leera, who caught it. "Yes, sir. I'm up for it."

Leera smiled and put the ball back on the rack. "I had a feeling you were."

"Alright!" Derbi clapped. "Now we're getting somewhere. Just wait'll the others check this guy out."

I was about to interrupt her, tell her that the others _did _check me out already (and weren't terribly frightened), but Vonde cut me off.

"_Yeah!"_ he shouted. "I mean, if the Committee doesn't bore you to death with their speech, the Lost Desert may just stand a chan—"

"The Committee." Leera's face turned white. "Oh. Oh no. What time is it?"

Vonde, Derbi and Navers suddenly caught on that there was a dire situation upon us. They all started panicking.

"Oh, CRAP!" Vonde shouted. "It's almost noon!"

Derbi got up. "Uh-oh. We've gotta get out of here."

I was confused. "Wait. Wh—AAH!"

Dirty Navers shoved me hard to the door. "Come on, move it. It's time to face the music."

Leera opened the door and ushered me out a trifle more gently than Navers did. "Luvea," he said, "I really hope you don't lose any respect for me after this."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the hall before I got a chance to tell him that it would take the unimaginable to make me lose respect for him.

* * *

The "Common Lounge" was this large, rundown room with a bunch of chairs, couches, and tables. There was a busted old TV set with a cracked screen, a ratty-looking radio that looked like someone had gnawed on it, and a whole mess of playing cards. A few empty bottles were lying around. There was an unidentified mystery stain on the carpet. The air conditioner made a noticeable whirring sound and didn't help with the heat of the room. One of the windows was broken, with duct tape over the hole smashed through it. (I could only imagine how it got smashed in the first place.)

But the first thing I noticed was that every single athlete in the tournament was crammed into the room. They were all sitting in every available seat. Some even sat on the floor. They were all sitting very quietly. The looks on their faces were combinations of boredom, dread, and disgust.

"Hey, everyone," I said. "How's it going?"

Everyone looked my way. I nearly wet myself.

Vonde pulled my arm roughly. "Come on! Sit before they see you standing! Before it's too late!"

_"They?"_ I asked.

"Sit!"

I sat next to him.

Just then, three Neopets—a red Draik, a green Skeith, and a blue Aisha—came in, their heads held high. They were around middle age, wearing starched white togas and robes. The Draik and Skeith were male, the Aisha was female. The Draik had a long, curly grey beard. The Skeith had a goatee and sideburns. The Aisha's hair was piled on her head in an outrageously complicated style.

"Good day, players," the Draik said with a snort. "I see that everyone has managed to attend the pre-game practice routines. Perhaps you have all decided to become courteous and responsible."

"Yes," the Skeith chimed in, puffing his chest. "Such morality is nourishment to the very soul of the tournament. It holds up the very honor and dignity of the Altador Cup to regard the game with such esteem." He gave a nice, loud _harrumph_ to get his point across.

"Certainly," said the Aisha, straightening her robes. "We certainly don't want to compromise the dignity of the Altador Cup code of honor. By obeying rules, you show respect and virtue, and nourish your very own good credit."

Were these guys wack?

The Draik noticed me. "Ah. A new addition. Tell us, what is your name?"

"Uh…I'm Luvea. N-nice to see you."

"No, no, young sir," he wagged his finger at me. "Tell us your _full_ name."

"Oh. Um…Luvea Trivon, sir."

"Ah. Well, Mr. Trivon, are you are here to try out for a team?"

"Y-yeah. The Lost Desert, sir. I'm trying out as the new left defender."

"Of course, Mr. Trivon, of course," the Aisha said, nodding and then fixing her hair. "Well, because you are new and unfamiliar with the Altador Cup Code of Honor, it is our duty to inform you of the rules and ensure your good conduct."

"Oh, great," Derbi muttered. "They're gonna give a speech."

"Why?" I whispered.

"Why do you _think?"_

Oh. Of course. I felt glares hot on my back. I blushed. This had to be the most embarrassing day of my life.

"That's right," Derbi whispered. _"New-_bie..."

"Miss Azar?" the Draik asked her. "Is there something you'd like to share with us?"

"No, Sir. Sorry."

"Very good." The Draik snorted in satisfaction.

"We are the Altador Cup Rules Committee," said the Skeith, puffing his chest out. "Our job here is to preserve the honor of Altador Cup and keep the integrity of the competition intact, and nourish the very soul of the tournament."

Aisha fixed her hair and straightened her robes again. "The Altador Cup Tournament isn't just about winning a trophy and playing sports. It is also a show of morality, integrity, and honor. What you do and how you play and participate in these games affect the entire tournament. Therefore, it is of the utmost importance that we follow the rules of this competition, and uphold the Altador Cup Code of Honor."

"This isn't just a game," the Draik added, wagging a finger at us. "It is a show of grace, honor, and dignity. These virtues are vital to our existence as participants. Therefore, it is important to display good sportsmanship. _Good sportsmanship, _everyone, _good sportsmanship._ Everyone must learn to behave honorably, with grace and discipline. Those who fail to uphold these honors are looked down upon by the very sports world itself. So, remember, _good sportsmanship."_

"We are the keepers of the soul of the tournament," said the Skeith. "When we fail to uphold its honor, the very image and integrity of the Altador Cup dies away, and falls apart, and we, too, as its players and upholders, deteriorate along with it. Thus, it is vital that we obey the rules."

Okay. These guys were wack.

"We shall state the actions prohibited in this tournament," said the Aisha.

Some people groaned, rolled their eyes, scoffed, snorted, and muttered.

The Aisha frowned. "We beg your pardon?"

"Yes, Ma'am," everyone mumbled.

And so, the torture began. The Skeith began ticking off an outrageously long list of rules. Every so often the Aisha or Draik would chime in with a few extra rules, to make sure the list wasn't too short (it wasn't). The three of them prattled on another good hour about how cheating deteriorated the game, how the humans of TNT had helped to bring stability, how hard the Yooyu training has been, how events of the past have brought problems to the game, etc., etc., etc. I could feel my brain disintegrating. I was half dead by the time they finally stopped.

"Now," said the Skeith, "It is 2:15, and it is time for the captains to gather for their meeting. We will leave the captains in peace for this meeting, but we expect them to uphold the honor of the Altador Cup during their conversation. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," everyone responded.

"Good." He gave a quick nod of the head. "Good day, players."

With a huff, snort, and harrumph, the Rules Committee left, shutting the door behind them. Once they were gone, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

Soon afterwards, sixteen people got up, each wearing different jerseys, and started heading for the door. Leera was among them. Some of them sent me knowing, suspicious, even arrogant looks as they went through the door. Leera stopped in the door and gave me a meaningful nod. And then he was pushed out by some of the other captains behind him.

"Hey _loser!"_ A loud and penetrating voice rang in my ear. It was a Maraquan Acara, who was passing by me alongside the other captains. He wore a light green and blue jersey, and had the cruelest, most arrogant sneer on his face. He shoved me aside. "Who're you supposed to be? You just blow in from Stupidtown?"

There were laughs, scoffs, and groans, along with mutters of, "Shut up, Elon".

"No," I snapped, trying to sound fierce (I knew I was failing). "I—I-I-I-I'm from S-s-s-s-sakhmet. Sakhmet! I—I—I'm going t-t-to be—"

The Acara suddenly interrupted me, and did a near perfect, albeit incredibly exaggerated and wimpy-sounding, imitation of my voice. "Hey, everybody!" he shouted. "It's the Lost D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-desert's new d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-defender!"

The Acara threw his head back and laughed, and headed out the door.

I was furious. _Enraged!_ I blew smoke through my teeth. I wanted to go after that guy, grab him, take his neck in both hands, dig my claws into it, and—

The Acara slammed the door in my face.

I heard snickers behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw that everyone was very interested in watching me. I recognized a few faces. The white Techo from Meridell—Wizard Windelle—smiled at me meaningfully from his rather comfortable spot on one of the couches.

"Luvea," he said, "Did you tell anyone about how long you've played?"

There were snorts and stifled laughs. Vonde, Derbi and Navers looked alarmed.

I glared back at him. "I've gotta go. Excuse me."

I escaped out the door, but that didn't save me from hearing their whispers of "wimp", "stutterer", "n00b", and "loser".

I stormed down the hall. Who did these people think they were? And what did they take me for? Was it _that _obvious that I was a pathetic pushover and a coward? Okay, I was. But I was angry—_really _angry! I was as strong as any of them, and I could beat them up if I wanted to. I'd show 'em who they're messing with. I could breathe fire in their faces. I could bash their heads in. I could break their necks lke twigs. I could put their eyes out with my claws. I could rip them to shreds. I could. I _could._

No. I couldn't. Who was I kidding? My anger was as incompetent as I was at binding decent books. I didn't have much of a chance.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't realize that I was walking right past the door to the room where the captains were having their meeting. I heard muffled voices. I stopped.

I wasn't supposed to do it. But my curiosity got the better of me. I put my ear against the door.

I heard many voices, each one loud, clear and distinct from one another. And they were all talking about me.

_"I hope he doesn't squabble like your two forwards. I'm surprised you actually manage to get each game done with those two going at each other."_

_"Arr, the boy better start practicin'. I know for a fact that inexperience can really 'amper a player down if they 'ave no skills to back 'em up in the field. It'd be a harsh world 'ere in the Altador Cup tournament, and I'd 'ate to see him cave on his first tourney."_

_"That boy'd better start building some character out there, or he's as good as dead."_

_"I'll see to that. The new meat looks delicious. Let's see how he does in the slaughterhouse."_

_"Come on, give the kid a chance. It's not like he's done anything yet."_

_"I agree. This isn't our bizzo. Right? I mean, don't get me wrong! I love competiton. But the guy's not in the competiton yet. Don't judge 'til you see him."_

_"Ha, what a laugh! Does he always stutter like that? Ha, ha! What a loser!"_

Thanks for the compliment, jerk.

Leera lost his temper. I heard his voice, strong and angry, through the door. "Okay. That's it. All of you. Knock it off! I'll be in charge of who goes into my team, alright? It's my business. Not yours. Furthermore, you'll be surprised at what Luvea Trivon can do. If any of you have a problem with it, fine. But lay off! I've chosen a good defender, and he'll show you what he's made of. Got it?"

I felt terrible. Leera Heggle, one of the greatest athletes in the history of Neopia, was convinced that I was one of the greatest tandems ever. If he knew what I was really like—what an unbelievable cowardly, pushover, stuttering loser I really was—he wouldn't have signed me on.

Right?

"Whatever you say," somebody said, in a cool voice. "But whatever happens, I'm not about to let a little _nothing _stop my game."

_Nothing?_

I saw red. Smoke was blowing out my nose, through my clenched teeth.

_Nothing!_

That did it. Okay, so I was naïve. Okay, I've never traveled before. Okay, I'm sheltered, and my only outlet to Yooyuball was the court in the city, my ten-inch TV, and radio. But that didn't make me any less of a player than them. Leera Heggle chose me for a reason. I was about to show them that reason—_NOW!_

I threw the door open. _"HOW DARE YOU!"_

Everyone turned and saw me, and froze. I was flying a few feet off the ground, smoke comeing from between my teeth. I must've looked pretty scary. _Good._

"You know what? I don't care _who_ you people are! Laugh at me all you want! You guys think I'm _nothing?_ You want nothing? Well, _here goes nothing!"_

I speed away, leaving almost every single person in that room speechless and open-mouthed. Except for Leera. He was smiling.

* * *

I went to the locker rooms and I threw mine open. I threw off my tunic and slipped into the jersey. I put on the strap and fit my right arm into my sling. I fastened on the pads around my knees, elbows, and left shoulder. I put my headpiece on. I emerged the locker room a new man.

I was ready.

* * *

We entered the arena together—Leera, Vonde, Derbi, Navers, and I. Waiting for us was a team of Jelly Neopets, our practice team. I looked up and saw every person from every team sitting in the stands, watching us as we came in. I ignored their stares. In the arena, I was not the whimpering loser I usually was. I was a different person. A Draik possessed. My mind was on the game.

We got into our positions. I took my spot in the left side of the field, in the area before the goal. 'Dirty' Navers took the right side. Derbi was in front of him near the center front of the field, on the right, and Vonde took the left side. Leera took his place at the net. In front of us, on the opposing side of the field, the jellies took their places.

The Referee came to the side of the field by the doors. The clock above us started at three minutes.

The flat metal opening in the center of the arena, between the two teams where the forwards stood, opened.

The Yooyu is a smart, hardy little petpet. It could roll into a ball, and be tossed around. It was the eleventh player on the field, since it was actively in the game and a living being. There were six types of Yooyus in the field, each one painstakingly trained to behave a certain way according to colour.

The normal Yooyu acted like a normal ball, going at normal speed and in straight lines.

The fire Yooyu's heat burned our hands and traveled faster than the others.

The snow Yooyu froze our muscles a little and traveled slower.

The faerie Yooyu moved in curves, bending and floating high in the air.

The Darigan Yooyu was a misbehaving fellow, going any direction but the one you threw it.

The mutant Yooyu was nothing short of unpredictable. It would behave like the fire, snow, faerie, or Darigan Yooyus—in no particular pattern.

And then there was the Robot Yooyu, which was a clockwork toy that would explode within five to fifteen seconds if wasn't thrown into the net in time.

A gong sounded.

A normal Yooyu sprang fourth, curling itself into a ball. Derbi and Vonde both ran forward towards the Yooyu, just as one of the Jelly forwards tried to make a grab for it. Derbi caught it first, and ran forward on the right side, and Vonde caught up with her speed, moving further left.

"Pass!" he shouted.

I expected Derbi to be selfish with the ball. But she passed to him. One of the defenders tried to block Vonde, and another tried tackling him, but he passed back to Derbi, who was lying in wait in an unguarded spot. She caught it, and threw it into the goal. The goalie made a dive for it, and blocked it. The ball sailed back towards the centre of the field. The jelly forward grabbed it and ran to our side.

Immediately, 'Dirty' Navers sprung into action. He caught up with the forward and slammed his elbows into his ribs, shoved him hard, pushed against him, and kicked his ankle, throwing him off balance. And it became very clear to me exactly why they called him 'Dirty' Navers. I was just glad that I wasn't on the opposing team.

Navers had the ball, and ran forward. But then one of the forwards snagged the ball.

My instincts kicked in. I ran after the forward with all of my strength. I dove at him, shoved, and snagged the Yooyu from out of his sling. Before he could try taking it back, I sped out at an agle, towards the other side of the field.

I saw Vonde up ahead. He made eye contact and shouted at me for a pass. I aimed for him. He managed to catch it in time, before any of the practice forwards could intercept it. He then ran closer to the opponent's goal, with Derbi not far behind him. He made a backward pass. She stepped to the side and caught it.

And then, out of nowhere, one of the forwards tackled her. He passed to his teammate, who was quickly approaching our side of the field. Navers and I ran to catch him, but the jelly forwards made it to our goal.

Leera was ready. He looked as though he already knew what was going to happen. He leapt right as the forward threw the ball, in the very direction it was headed, and caught it. It hit him hard, but I wasn't steered wrong by his sternness and his firmness. Leera Heggle was tough as nails.

He saw that I was nearby, open. He gave me a small nod, as if to warn me, and tossed the Yooyu to me. I flew up and caught it midair, and immediately passed to Navers. When he caught it, one of the jellies tackled him! I dashed over to the forward as he was about to move towards the goal. I tackled him, took that ball away, and dashed towards the center of the field.

"Luvea!" Derbi shouted. "Over here!"

I passed as I ran. Derbi got it, but a forward grabbed the ball in mid-pass. Luckily, Leera caught it before it could get into the net. He tossed it to Navers. He ran to get closer to Vonde and Derbi.

I knew he wouldn't make it. One of the other jelly forwards was running towards Navers. I ran, and right as the forward tackled Navers, I tackled the forward. I made it away with the ball. I was getting close to the goal. Maybe I'd score this time! I tried to shoot!

I missed. Big time. I caught the ball again, and I saw Vonde running closer. Both of the practice team forwards were coming at him. If he caught my pass in midair, he could make a strike immediately after. "Vonde!" I shouted. "Jump!"

_"I can't!"_ he shouted back.

Uh-oh. I had to think quickly. The forwards were already heading after Vonde. They had left the left side of the field open and vulnerable. Then I got an idea. I made eye contact with Vonde, jerking my head to the left.

He caught my message. Right as the forwards approached him, Vonde dashed over to the left side. I threw the ball right as he was skidding to a stop. He caught it, and did a quick one-timer shot at the net behind him, angling to the right. The ball went in before the goalie fully realized what had happened.

The score was 1-0.

The next Yooyu that came out was a mutant. I heard everyone on the field groan a bit. Mutants weren't the easiest balls to play with. But duty was calling. Derbi snatched it before the jellies did, but when she got past them, a defender came towards her. She passed to Vonde, who had been following her trail. He made it to the goal, aimed, and—

Crap. The mutant decided it wanted to be Darigan and flew in the opposite direction, towards one of the jelly defenders. I could see the look of frustration on Vonde's face. The defender passed to the forward, who ran, with Derbi close behind. He didn't make it far. Navers pushed, slammed, and shoved him. I was getting bruises just by watching.

Navers forced the forward to fumble, but the other forward was headed towards him! I ran right over there. The other forward got the ball into his sling—and then I tackled him. I had the ball, and I ran back to the opposing goal. Vonde was open. I passed to him. The mutant acted like a faerie and moved towards him in a curve.

Vonde caught it, but got tackled, and the defender passed to the forward, who ran towards me and Navers. I couldn't reach in time. Luckily, when the forward struck at our goal, Leera dove and caught the ball. He wasn't a fast goalie, but he seemed to have strong instincts of when to get ready. And he wasn't tired. Not even close.

Leera tossed it to Navers. I saw the jelly forwards run towards him. Navers started panicking, and then he saw me, and passed to me.

The Yooyu flew down towards me in an arc. I flew up, snatched it in mid-air, and right as I was coming back down, I aimed for Derbi. The Yooyu cooperated this time, going twards her in a straight line.

Derbi was smiling as she ran towards the goal, and dodged right past the practice team during their moment of weakness. The Yooyu sailed past the goalie.

The clock ran out. The whistle blew. We won, 2-0.

The members of the other teams clapping and cheering in the audience. Derbi ran over to me and hugged me quickly. "You were great! Oh, finally! Somebody who _actually_ does their job right every time!"

"Uh…" I caught on. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, it was no—"

"Dude!" Vonde came over and hit my shoulder. "That was awesome! Nice pass with that flying move, back there."

"Oh yeah. Just a trick I learned back home. Thanks."

"Try doing that during one of the season matches this tourney, okay? That was badass!"

Navers came over. He smiled. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

"Uh...thank you."

Finally, Leera came over. I braced myself.

"You're better than I hoped," he said. "You're not a clutch performer—but you know what? You've made it so that there are no moments where clutch performances are needed. You're constantly on the mark. You're there when we need you. You have troubles with scoring, I can see. You lack accuracy, but as a defender, you have efficiency. You could be the roster move we need."

I gawked at him. "S-seriously?" I squeaked.

"I wouldn't jest about this, Luvea Trivon. I think…I think you've got what it takes."

He held out his hand for a shake.

I stared stupidly at it. "Leera, I…uh, I…"

"You can call me 'Captain' now." He took my hand and shook it. "Welcome to Team Lost Desert."

It took me a second to realize what he said.

"Th-thank you, sir—Leera—Captain. Captain! Thanks."

We came back in through the arena door, and the others from the audience passed me in the halls as they came through, greeting me and shoving me and laughing as way of a welcoming. When they were gone, it was just me and Derbi.

I pointed to myself. "So…I'm in?"

She winked and turned to leave. "It's better than the alternative."

And so, it was decided. The Lost Desert's Yooyuball team had a new left defender.

Wyett Tuggins was out.

I was in.


End file.
